


Departures and Arrivals

by Inquartata (mackillian)



Series: Tessera [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 12:25:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16346696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mackillian/pseuds/Inquartata
Summary: The first time Thaia meets her father.





	Departures and Arrivals

**Author's Note:**

> Another Fictober prompt fic!
> 
> Day 3: “How can I trust you?”  
> Day 4: “Will that be all?”  
> Day 9: “You shouldn’t have come here.”

**Armali, 1901.**

Thaia was alone.

She was alone and it was a thousand million times worse than five years ago at the bay when a surprise rip current had swept her past the headland. But it had still been the sea she’d been swimming in for as long as she could remember, still the coast and the cliffs she saw every day they were there, everything familiar, everything _home_. Then through the panic and terror, she'd remembered what she was supposed to do and swam with the current. Then her mother had driven up in the boat and plucked her from the water with her biotics. Held her tight, said she was proud of her for remembering what to do, told her she loved her. Then joked about how that was the only time Thaia hadn’t insisted on a pitched argument over getting out of the water.

There was nothing familiar now. Swept out into the middle of an unfamiliar sea and nothing but her for as far as she could see. Just her and she didn’t know what to do but she didn’t want to drown. But her heart would start beating real fast and it was hard to breathe sometimes.

Staying in the house and under the temporary guardianship of Matriarch Tinashe, the grandmother of one of Thaia’s classmates, was okay. The house was nice, built into a hillside overlooking Armali. But Thaia had only met Matriarch Tinashe once before and that had been in passing. And her classmate, Menodora, was off at the Citadel visiting her father’s family, so she didn’t even have a friend to play with. Just Matriarch Tinashe—who was nice enough, but a _matriarch_ —and her squad of very serious commandos who formed her security detail. Thaia didn’t know why someone needed a bunch of bodyguards in her own home, but matriarchs usually had good reasons for what they did, so she didn’t ask. It helped that while the commandos were serious, they weren’t mean.

In the two days Thaia had been staying in Matriarch Tinashe’s home, there had been several visitors, and all of them had been escorted by one of the matriarch’s commandos. Except the most recent.

The asari was tall, taller than her mother. From down the hallway that looked straight into the foyer, Thaia watched as the stranger spoke with Matriarch Tinashe. She talked with the matriarch like they knew each other, enough that the stranger swore more than a few times. Way more.

Thaia’s mother had never used swears, not even the time she’d dropped the skiff’s hull on her foot. None of her students had used swears in front of her either, but Thaia had heard them a few times when she was smaller and they hadn’t known she was there. Really, as a general rule, if you weren’t a matriarch yourself, you didn’t swear in front of matriarchs. But this matron was and she was _a lot_. A couple times she glanced in Thaia’s direction while swearing and Thaia wasn’t sure what to make of it. She didn’t think she’d done anything wrong. At least that’s what she’d been told, over and over since… since the… since the park. But the matron had scowled when she’d looked in Thaia’s direction and that couldn’t be good.

Thaia decided that maybe she needed to be elsewhere and not watching the new visitor.

She went to the garden, heading straight to the side of the rectangular meditation pool filled with eezo-infused saltwater. Beyond the pool, Thaia could see the Temple of Athame’s tall spire, and beyond even that, the arriving and departing ships above Armali’s spaceport. Thaia didn’t actually think her mother would be on a ship that was landing, but… she wanted her to be.

Matriarch Tinashe had been very clear that Thaia’s mother wasn’t likely to come back, and she’d bluntly told Thaia that because she didn’t want her to hold out with false hope.

Thaia still wanted her mother back.

She’d take back all the times she refused to get out of the water at the bay if it meant she came back. She’d even give up going to the bay forever if it meant she would come back. Thaia had told Matriarch Tinashe the same thing. But Matriarch Tinashe had given Thaia that sad matriarch look right before she’d told Thaia that Indah was gone because she simply was, she was likely never returning, and there wasn’t a thing Thaia could do.

When her mother had left her with Aulus, Thaia had thought she’d been alone. But she’d been wrong because _this_ was alone, standing in a kind stranger’s garden and wishing her mother would come back while knowing she wouldn’t. Matriarch Tinashe had taken her in because they still weren’t even sure what to do with her. Thaia knew that because she’d heard Matriarch Tinashe speaking with other matriarchs about it, along with debating amongst themselves about who they would contact to help them find someone to ‘take custody of the child.’ It meant for a lot of visitors.

Yesterday, there’d been a _justicar_.

The acolytes, for some reason, had been jumpy around her. Immediately answering whatever questions she had, immediately fetching her something if she needed it, all the while constantly asking, _“Will that be all?”_ like they really wanted the answer to please goddess be: _“Yes, and now I will take my leave_.”

One had fetched Thaia, whispering, _“She wants to speak with you,”_ like it was a huge secret. She’d escorted Thaia to see her and then slipped out of the room as quickly as possible. The justicar had been okay, though. Not nice, not exactly, but not mean either. Really purposeful in how she spoke, as if every word meant something very important. Thaia’s mother had spoken like that, each and every word stated with every measure of thoughtfulness.

Thaia still didn’t speak like that. She’d tried, but everything would get jumbled up and then just spill out. At least the justicar, her gorget gleaming under the midday sun, hadn’t seemed to mind.

The justicar was going to find her mother. Because justicars were the best at finding people.

Later that evening, Thaia had heard matriarchs arguing. One of them had called the justicar against the wishes of the rest. _“If she finds Indah,”_ Matriarch Tinashe had said, _“she will execute her. And then that child won’t have a mother at all.”_

 _“She doesn’t have one now,”_ another matriarch had said.

No, Thaia didn’t. There wasn’t anyone for her in this house of kind strangers.

A commando had found her then. _“Come on, you shouldn’t be here. There’s some stuff kids shouldn’t have to hear.”_

The same commando was in the garden with Thaia now, but sitting on one of the benches nearby instead of hovering. Thaia went to watch the spaceport again, but movement from the door to the house caught her eyes. It was the asari from earlier striding into the garden, her steps silent like a commando’s as she approached Thaia at a steady pace.

Thaia watched warily from where she stood next to the pool she was trying not to hide behind.

She was dressed stylishly, but had opted for shirt and trousers instead of a dress. The markings on her face were ones of a matron who’d had children, but they seemed vaguely familiar to Thaia. Which was odd because Thaia had never seen that before with matron markings.

A few steps away, the stranger stopped. Then she pushed up the sleeves of her shirt, the off-white cloth contrasting brightly against cobalt blue skin. “So,” the stranger said after Thaia said nothing, just looked at her, wondering what kinds of questions this stranger would ask, if she was a police officer or a psychologist or some other kind of professional.

Maybe they’d decided she’d done something wrong.

Maybe she’d have to run from here like she had from Aulus.

Thaia’s heart started beating faster.

Then the stranger paused and took a knee so that she was at eye level with Thaia. “You’ve had a rough couple of days.”

Psychologist, then. The police officers just started in with questions. It was the psychologists who stated the obvious like it wasn’t obvious. And that she’d had a rough couple of days was _obvious._

Thaia didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen and maybe she should just run now.

After the stranger kept looking at her expectantly, Thaia nodded just in case she suspected she might run.

The stranger nodded back. “Yeah, about what I thought. Well, my name’s Sula. And…” Sula briefly looked toward the spaceport behind Thaia, and then sighed. “Did your mother ever talk about your father?”

“Not really,” Thaia said quietly, which was weird because usually she was anything but quiet, according to her mother. And her teachers. And her skyball coach. And her friends. And those priestesses at the last siari temple she’d visited but it wasn’t like the siari rules said anywhere that you _had_ to be quiet to be one with everything.

Sula tilted her head. “Can you give me a little more to work with?”

“She told me she was asari.”

“Anything else?”

“No.” Thaia frowned. “Are you… are you trying to find her?”

Sula laughed, but it was kind. “Wouldn’t have to go farther than finding a mirror. I’m your dad.”

 _I’m not alone_ , Thaia thought, hope surging up all bright and pleasant. Then she heard Aulus’s voice: _“Never trust anything that’s too good to be true, because it’s always a lie.”_  

“How can I trust you?” she asked out loud.

Sula winced. “I suppose that’s fair. As for trust, I’ll just have to earn it by proving that I’m trustworthy.”

“How do I know you’re even telling the truth?”

“That’s a good question to ask.” Sula rubbed her forehead, fingers resting on commando tattoos long faded to grey. “How about this? Your mother, before she disappeared, sent me regular updates about you. What if I know something that you thought only you and your mother know? Something that even that turian asshole doesn’t know?”

But there was only one thing between Thaia and her mother that would count and Thaia knew that _nobody_ else knew. Not Aulus, not her mother’s longest-standing students, no one. So Thaia steeled herself for disappointment when she asked, “Do you know something like that?”

The corner of Sula’s mouth quirked in a fond smile. “You tell me, Waterbug.”

Thaia gasped. “How did you know?”

“Indah wrote me all kinds of stories about you, like how you never want to leave the water. Said she wasn’t sure if you were asari, a shark, or a waterbug. Sure, she picked the waterbug, but I think the jury’s still out.”

Scowling, Thaia said, “I’m _asari_.”

“Maybe.” Sula shrugged. “Maybe not. Could be that you’ll grow your fins at puberty and we’ll find out that you were a shark all along.”

Well, Sula definitely _sounded_ like a parent. Thaia’s mother had once said something like that about growing wings when Thaia had protested the new nickname the first time her mother had used it. Eventually, Indah had told her, _“Your vociferous objection isn’t necessary, I promise. In our case, the nickname is a metaphorical expression of love between a parent and her child.”_

That in mind, Thaia studied Sula more closely, paying special attention to the similarities between her mother’s markings and Sula’s. They were faded and not exactly the same, but Thaia had never seen any markings remotely similar to her mother’s. No one did, because how different they were let you figure out real fast which asari was your mother. But no one else Thaia knew had an asari father, either. “Is that…” Thaia took a breath, trying to get her heart to slow down. She indicated Sula’s face. “Is that why your markings look kind of like my mother’s?”

“Yeah. Not that you see it much anymore, but asari matrons who’re the dads get markings, too. And if they trade off on mothering kids with the same asari, then the markings are even more similar.”

“But there’s just me.”

Sula looked at her in disbelief and then sighed again. “Indah didn’t tell you shit, did she?”

“Mother never even said the _word_ shit.” Then Thaia realized that she’d just said shit in front of her father. The father she’d just met. 

She clapped a hand over her mouth. 

Sula laughed, like it somehow wasn’t a big deal that a kid had used a swear word right in front of her. “That’s nothing. Always amazed me that Indah didn’t swear—especially since she’s built like a damn commando—but the same isn’t true for me. And, so long as you’re swearing in context, I don’t give a shit if you swear. My advice would be to keep it to a minimum around most matriarchs, though. Some of them get real uptight. Anyway, did she really let you think you were an only child? Because you’re not.”

“I’m _not_?”

“For the love of the—kid, you’ve got three older sisters. I’m their mother instead of their father, so they went with me when we split and… we don’t need to get into that now. What I’m saying is that even though your mother’s gone, you’ve still got family.”

Thaia had to try really hard to talk. _“Use your words, Waterbug,”_ her mother used to say to her when she went silent because she couldn’t put her words in the right order. 

This time, when they finally came out, they were were small. The soft kind of small and Thaia bet her mother could’ve described how they sounded using just one word. Matriarch Indah had always had the right words. “I’m not alone?”

But even though her words had been small, they hit Sula real hard and it was her turn to stare. Then she talked softly, too. The upset kind of soft like there might’ve been tears but the grown up was keeping them inside. “Is that what you’ve been thinking? That you’re alone?”

Thaia told Sula what she hadn’t told anyone else. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Matriarch Tinashe told me that my mother isn’t coming back and they were trying to find a relative to take care of me. But when I said to see if my father was around because she was asari, she just shook her head. You know, like matriarchs do when you ask them for something they can’t give but they don’t want to hurt your feelings. She made the face that goes with it, too.”

“What face?”

Thaia made the face. Looked at Sula and pressed her lips together in a flat line and maintained eye contact and then slowly shook her head. 

Sula laughed again, but it wasn’t as loud as earlier. “You’re spot on with that face. That was pretty fucking good.”

“You said _fuck_ ,” Thaia whispered, horrified because what if Matriarch Tinashe heard and her mother said that there were better words people could use to express themselves if they only tried.

“You just did, too.”

Thaia straightened. “Shit.”

This time Sula laughed loud enough to carry across the garden and then said, “That’s my girl.”

Thaia’s chest felt all warm inside and then she realized her heart wasn’t beating fast anymore and she could breathe just fine.


End file.
